Our precious princess has not been well. About the time of the last post, she grew two bottom teeth in the front of her mouth. Since then we've been dealing with general fussiness, a runny nose, and a low grade fever, symptoms to be expected with a teething infant. In the last two weeks, however, the symptoms began to escalate. First it was a cough, which mommy felt was worsening. This prompted a visit to the pediatrician, even though we had just visited the pediatrician two weeks prior and been given a clean bill of health. As expected--as I expected--we were given the standard advice for infants: as long as she's eating and having dirty diapers at least every twelve hours, just watch for fever spikes above 101. That'll be $15.
The following week the fever continued. Usually it spiked at least once a day, but it stayed below 102. Then it hit 103, which meant back to the pediatrician. No signs of infection this time either, but they inserted a catheter to test her urine just to be sure. Kaitlyn was pissed, pardon the pun, mommy was traumatized. The doctor suspected roseola and told us to expect a rash any day. As long as she's eating and having dirty diapers at least every twelve hours, just watch for fever spikes above 101. That'll be $15.
Three days later the fever was still with us and the rash was nowhere to be found. This marked about twelve consecutive days with a fever 101 or above. When the doctor called to follow up, she ordered Miss K to the ER. Three hours and thousands of insurance dollars of poking, prodding, extracting, picture taking, and yes, another catheter and mommy was a basket case.
The toughest part of all of this has not been parenting, it's been husbanding. A cool bath and a dose of children's Tylenol will make my daughter feel better. Nothing makes my wife feel better. Tuesday night I spent at least fifteen minutes searching the house for every one of our three thermometers because the readings differed by a few decimals each time. Thankfully she did not insist on a rectal reading, although I'm sure it's in my future.
All of this drama is punctuated by some long awaited visits, which are made bittersweet by the circumstances. My former college roommate Ryan visited on the 5th, followed later that week by fellow Road Scholar Chris. This weekend my mom is here with her dad, giving us some unique four generation photo opportunities, not to mention an opportunity for Miss K to bond with her paternal grandparents. Capitalizing on that opportunity, we toured downtown San Antonio yesterday, visiting the Alamo and the Riverwalk where we all took a river boat tour. As I lifted up the stroller to carry it on to the riverboat, I heard something drop. I set the stroller down and turned to see Jen and the boat driver staring at me. "What dropped?" I asked.
Jen answered first, "your cell phone".
"I tried to grab it," said the boat driver, "but the boat moved and it fell in".
I took my seat without saying a word. The guy sitting across from me made a wise crack about needing a scuba diver. I said "are you volunteering?" and then picked him up by the collar and threw him overboard. If you think I'm exaggerating, call my cell phone and you can ask him yourself.
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